


The Other Winchester

by respnee, TheWistfulPhoenix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Possible Destiel - Freeform, actually strongly based on it, add more tags as I go, but a good one, changed identifying details of my town because my school would get their panties in a wad, loosely based on the haunted story of my school, sister fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respnee/pseuds/respnee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWistfulPhoenix/pseuds/TheWistfulPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean and Sam get a call telling them they have a sister, they have a right to be suspicious...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I hope you like it, please leave me a comment at the bottom if you do! :) Shout out to my co-author respnee.

“You boys are never going to guess what I just found out.” Dean Winchester had woken up to the sound of his Led Zeppelin’s Ramble on ringtone with his face in a musty smelling pillow, to match the rest of the room and heard a voice coming out of his other cell phone.  


Well, his other other cell.  


“Good morning to you too.” Dean said groggily, sitting upon the lumpy mattress in room 17 of the Odd Fellows Motel in El Paso, Texas. A glance over at Sammy’s bed against the opposite cracked, once white wall told him breakfast was on its way.  


Another glance around told him he was alone and as safe as a Winchester could get. All that was there was an old, broken lamp, a small TV that only shows static, and a faded red pull our couch missing most of it’s stuffing across from the door, who it’s cracked paint left a flurry of paint flecks behind you whenever you opened it  


‘Hopefully burritos’ he thought, moving towards the cramped bathroom ‘you can’t be this far south and not have some good Mexican food.’ He set the phone down for a minute while he splashed water from the little sink on his face to wake up. Of course he let the water clear up from the rusty pipes first.  


“Yea, yea, good morning Sunshine.” Bobby said sarcastically when Dean put the phone back to his ear and squeezed out of the bathroom. ‘Once you’re in, your in.’ he thought. He fumbled around for the gun under his pillow, checking to make sure it was loaded with rounds of rock salt. Then he checked the one under Sam’s pillow for regular rounds “But…”  


“Bobby,” Dean cut him off after a glance at the clock. Even though half the LED lights were out he could still make out the time “it’s like, 5am.”  


“I know but…” Bobby tried again  


“And you can’t blame it on time zones again either,” Dean griped “We’re in the same one.”  


“Dean,” Bobby said, patience wearing thin  


“We just got done clearing a nest of vamps a few hours…” Dean started  


“You've got a sister.” Bobby said bluntly, obviously tired of being interrupted  


“…ago and, wait, what?” Dean’s rant came to an abrupt halt, confused.  


“If you would let me talk, I would have told you by now ya idjit.” Bobby said, irritated  


“I’m listening,” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on. He needed a drink and hey, it was five o’ clock. No one said it had to be 5 in the afternoon. He headed for the rusty fridge where they had found a barely recognizable carton of milk when they arrived. Even the cardboard had mold on it.  


“Apparently you have sister, or at least that’s what the government official told me,” Bobby said “a real government official,” he amended, obviously thinking of the fake ID’s hidden in his panic room “She’s been living in the foster system for years, moving from group home to group home.”  


“So wait, uh.” Dean had so many questions he didn’t know which to ask first.  


“Let me finish boy,” Bobby reprimanded, so Dean just popped the top off his beer “An official from the Department of Orphan Care called, apparently a Christina Cormack has Leukemia and needs a blood marrow transplant. So the DOC entered a sample of her DNA into the system, and it came up with you two boys as the closest DNA match. My number was still on your paperwork as your godfather, so when they couldn't get a hold of you or your daddy they called me.” Bobby finished  


Dean scoffed “Doesn't this sound a little fishy to you?” he questioned once he had wrapped his mind around what Bobby was telling him. He looked up when Sam opened the door to their motel room, greasy bag of fast food in one hand and coffee in the other. Sam immediately knew something was up and gave Dean a questioning look.  


Dean held up a hand to stop Sam from voicing the question already forming on his lips.  


“It smells like the damn Boston Harbor, but if something is going to this much trouble to get you boys, then it’s gotta be worth checkin’ out. She, or whatever it is, is in Houston, if you leave now you should be there around three.” He said  


Dean sighed leaving the kitchen. “Why should we go after it? If this thing wants to kill us Bobby, why not make it come to us?” he didn’t mean to sound so angry, but damn it he was tired of stuff trying to kill them.  


“Because if it is after you, you want to meet it when you’re ready, not let it be a surprise attack. And Dean,” Bobby’s voice got quieter “what if it really is you boy’s sister, and not a trap?”  


“Dad was hooked on finding Mom’s killer for years,” Dean said stonily, taking another swig of his beer “he never went out, he never even looked at another women.” Dean was now resigned and fully awake and stuffing cloths into a bag. Sam, seeing this followed suite, giving Dean that look again. Dean held up a finger.  


“Maybe not when you were around, but he was known to get drunk from time to time.” Bobby’s sarcasm was evident, and Dean blew air out of his nose in agreement “There is a chance she’s actual your sister, or have you forgotten Adam?”  


“Yeah.” Dean answered somberly, remembering his other brother who was still in hell. In hell at all because of him, if he had been a little faster, Adam might have been occupying the under stuffed pull out couch in the corner.  


“Well then you should know damn well better than anybody what family means.” Dean grabbed his gun and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans while Bobby continued “Yeah they don’t have to be blood but it sure helps. Just go and if she turns out to be our specialty , just treat it like any other job, but we don’t leave family behind.”  


“Yeah,” Dean said resigned, looking down and thinking of Adam “we’ll call you when we get on the road for more information to find her.”  


“Okay,” Bobby said “You boys be careful out there”  


“Aren’t we always careful?” Dean asked cheekily, to cover up the catch in his throat.  


Bobby groaned “Just go ya idjit.” And hung up  


Dean did the same and turned to Sam “We’re eating on the road.” he said, grabbing his coffee and downing it.  


“Why, what’s up?” Sam asked  


Dean grabbed his baby’s keys off the coffee table that had obviously been at the receiving end of a dog’s excitement and paused “ I…I don’t have a good answer,” he said honestly, shouldering his bag “but I’ll explain in the car.

 

“Could it be a Wendigo?” Sam asked, voicing an idea for about the 13th time since Dean had told him everything Bobby said, each theory getting more and more unlikely, the minutes ticking by till they had to face this thing. He had been staring out the window with his laptop on his lap for the past couple of hours as the flat desert slowly shifted to rolling hills  


“Since when has a Wendigo been seen south of Minnesota?” Dean took his eyes of the straight and narrow road stretching far ahead of them to look at his little brother.  


‘Not so little anymore, he barely fits in Baby.’  


“Even that’s an uncommon for them, they mostly hole up in Canada. Isn’t it a bit risky for them down south? Not a lot of old mines to make their lair in down here.” He continued, eyes returning to the road to pass the one car they had seen for miles.  


“But since when has a Wendigo cared about risk when it’s hunting?” Sam shot back, sipping his now cold coffee “They are starving all the time Dean.”  


‘Literally.’ Sam thought  


Dean chuckled nervously, swerving to avoid a pothole. He knew what it was like to be starving. When they were little and their dad would leave them in a hotel for weeks, he would give what little food they had to Sam and eat what was left on his plate when Sam went to bed. Sometimes there wasn’t any left. The crappy, to salty, to little meat burritos they had eaten this morning would have seemed like a thanksgiving feast to him then “Still seems a little farfetched to me.” He said, unsure, pulling his mind away from that memory. He had never told Sam that, and he wasn’t going to today.  


“Okay,” Sam looked down at the laptop “Wendigo have been known to enter cabins and other dwellings, unlocking them from the outside and slaughtering the inhabitants, then proceeding to turn the cabin into its own lair.” Sam read “When a Wendigo hunts, it stalks the victim for long periods,” He looks back up, at Dean “What if we didn’t kill the one back in Blackwater, and what if it decided it wants Winchester for its next lunch?”  


“Dude,” Dean growled, glaring at the road ahead, annoyed “I shot the thing myself.”  


“Yeah, but with a flare gun” Sam said “It sometimes works, because they live in cold climates, but the only sure fire way to kill a Wendigo is to use silver.” He thought about it  


‘No pun intended.’ He chuckled  


Dean looked at him funny, but then decided to let it go “We would’ve gotten a call from Shaw saying the ‘bear attacks’ have started again.” Dean adjusted the air conditioning, still skeptical. Man, this 109 degree heat was killing him... and it was September.  


“What else could it be Dean? What if we didn’t get a call because it moved further south?” Sam closed his laptop and looked at his older brother “And Dean, that one’s not the only Wendigo out there.”  


“Anything else odd going on in Houston?” Dean asked finally happy with the tempture “Anything else to give us a clue?”  


“Yeah, get this.” Sam said, doing that stupid hand thing that Dean sometimes hated, sometimes loved, where he just tossed them up and held them there while he talked, usually around his laptop keyboard. “Coyotes and birds of prey have been sited more often than usual,” He said “those have been known to travel with Wendigos.”  


“Okay,” Dean relented “that does sound a little like one, so silver knives?”  


“Probably bullets,” Sam responded “Remember how fast the one in Blackwater was.” He reached for his bag and slid his lap top in, zipping it closed.  


“All right,” Dean said “So Wendigo.”  


“Wait, maybe it’s a ghoul,” Sam sighed, reaching to pull his laptop back out  


“Only eight more hours to go.” Dean sighed as well, and leaned forward and turned up AC/DC’s ‘Problem Child’ that was coming through the radio.  


Sam groaned.


	2. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything you recognize is Kripke's, everything else is mine.

The ’67 Chevy Impala pulled into the only available parking spot in the crowed lot across from Texas Children’s Hospital in the Medical district of Houston.

“So Wraith is out,” Dean said opening the door and stepping out, feeling frustrated. He started feeding quarters to the gray parking meter attached to the cracked concrete, already sweating from the Texas heat. 

‘And I thought Kansas was hot.’ he thought. 

Sam stepped out of the Impala, stretching, popping his back. ‘God, it’s humid.’ Was his first thought, leaning against the passenger side door, hot from the sun beating down on it all ten hours of the drive. “You got any more ideas?” 

Dean sighed and walked around the back of the car to the trunk, “I was out of ideas back in San Antonio.” He said, flipping through his keys resignedly. When he found the right one he slipped it in the keyhole to unlock it, then proceeding to open the secret weapons rack underneath, bracing the trap door with a sawed off shotgun, one of many in the compartment, with practiced ease. 

Sam came around as well, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. ‘It’s bound to happen eventually,’ he thought ‘someone will notice us pulling weapon after weapon out.’ It was a wonder, really, that no one had yet, as it was. They didn’t show it off exactly, but there is only so much you can do to hide the arsenal they carry with them. 

“So I guess we just take some of everything,” Dean continued, looking down at the array of weapons to choose from. “Some silver,” he tossed a rustic looking silver knife to Sam, who tucked it in his boot. This was followed by an identical knife dipped in goat’s blood. “Some salt,” he continued, now talking to himself while he shoved everything into a gray bag. “Gasoline, holy water, matches, Dead man’s blood…” 

He paused and looked up “Sammy, can you hand me the barbed wire?” 

“Sure,” Sam said, reaching for the makeshift, though lethal looking weapon. There was still blood on it from the nest they cleared in El Paso. 

‘Was that only yesterday?’ Sammy thought. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

“Thanks,” Dean said, taking it when Sam offered. He slipped it into the bag with a few other items. 

“So what’s the plan here?” Sam asked; as Dean laid the sawed off back down, closing the trap door and trunk. He had a bad feeling he knew the answer. 

“We walk in there and access the situation.” He said confidently, meeting Sam’s eyes, then looking away. 

“Is that your way of saying you have no clue?” Sam teased, trying to release some tension “Not very smart of you.” 

“Shut up, I’m a genius.” Dean said, but inwardly he agreed, and Sam knew it too. They grabbed their bags and Dean locked the Impala’s doors. They looked up at the tall, white building looming ominously over them. Sam moved to cross the street, but Dean yanked him back. 

A metro train went blaring past, right over the spot where Sam had been just moments before. 

“Uh, thanks.” Sam said, flustered 

“Always looking out for my little brother,” Dean said, slapping Sam on his Plaid flannel clad back. “I know I taught you to look both ways before you cross the street.” He made a huge show of looking back and forth, standing on his tip toes with his hands on his hips, before he crossed the street, still craning his neck, on the lookout for cars. 

Sam rolled his eyes and waited for a car to pass, before crossing, the nervous knot in his stomach getting worse with every step. He really hated not knowing what they were up against. ‘That’s what research is for.’ He thought 

While Dean waited for Sam on the other side of the silver and glass revolving door, in the blinding white and pristine entryway, he remembered the joy on Sammy’s face; the first and only time John had taken them on a case before they were teenagers, because their motel room wasn’t ready. 

‘Not sure what there was to get ready,’ Dean thought ‘the place was a dump.’ But then again every place John left them had been. 

They were told to wait in the lobby, and five year old Sam had begged Dean to let him run around the revolving door one more time, one more time, over and over again. 

“Please Dean.” He had begged, giving his big brother the puppy eyes that always worked, no matter who it was, and Sam knew it. 

‘Alright, one more,’ Dean would say, and off he went. The nice receptionist who had given them lollipops, and later turned out to be a wraith, had smiled at him and mentioned how cute it was to John when he came back out. 

He had had a black eye for a week after that. 

‘But I deserved it, I knew the rules,’ Dean thought ‘No doing or saying anything that would draw attention to them, or get themselves killed.’ But the temporary joy on Sammy’s face was worth the black eye. He realized later, after finding out about the receptionist, that possibly risking is brother’s life was not. 

Sam came through the door, the same look of joy on his face that he had all those years ago. To him this must have brought back good memories. Dean had told him that he had gotten the black eye when he tripped and fell, hitting his face on the door handle to the Impala. As a 5 year old, Sam bought it. 

Together they walked to the receptionist’s desk, and took their place in line behind a few other people. 

“Hopefully this one’s not a wraith.” Sam said under his breath, only half joking. 

“Yeah.” Dean breathed, distracted 

A few minutes later the brothers stepped up to the desk. 

“How may I help you?” the bored looking receptionist asked 

“Yes we are here to see,” Sam looked down at the paper where he had written the information from Bobby. “Christina Cormack, in room 16C.” 

“Oh,” the receptionist said, brightening instantly “You must be the Winchesters. It’s nice to know our Miracle child has such nice parents.” She smiled knowingly at them and continued before either of them had a chance to protest. “Floor C is for ICU patients, and of course our Christina is no longer in ICU. She giggled and the phone rang behind her, red light blinking. “She is in room 23E.” she said and pointed to the elevator before pivoting around and answering it, still smiling. 

Den managed to keep it under control till the slow elevator got there and they stepped inside to the blue interior, doors sliding closed behind them. He rubbed a hang over his face. 

“Why do people always think we are gay?” he questioned “and do we even look old enough to have a teenage daughter. 

“Between lack of sleep and stress I wouldn’t doubt it,” Sam answered tiredly “Either way if we were gay and together, we would have to adopt, this isn’t one of those fan fictions for Chuck’s books. 

“Wait, what?” Dean said, turning his neck to look at his little brother in apparent confusion, hand still in the air. 

“Some of the fanfics have this alpha omega thing. Alphas can get Omega’s pregnant.” He explained “Uh, your usually a omega..” he was fighting desperately to hide his grin. 

“What!” Dean exclaimed 

“… and Cas is usually your Alpha.” He finished 

“What?” Dean repeated “Cas…we…we’re not…” he felt a knot in his stomach and chalked it up to nerves. “Wait, you read that stuff?” Dean summed up lamely. 

Sam flushed “Not the, um, sexy scenes, I skip those.” He added hurriedly at the look of horror Dean shot him “But it is nice to be appreciated once in a while.” The door dinged open. 

“Let’s never bring up this conversation again.” Dean said stepping out “Ever.” 

“Hey,” Sam said suddenly, desperate to change the subject as they walked down the hall of floor E. “What do you think she meant by Miracle child?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment and let me know how I'm doing :)


	3. Nicer ring to it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it has been a little bit, but I had finals and then summer started, but didn't really start because I/ coauthor respnee have been super busy. But here is chapter 3 :)

Dean stopped and looked at Sam “That’s a good question.” Dean flagged down the next doctor he saw in a white lab coat “What can you tell me about the Miracle Child?”

“Are you from the press?” the short and round, bald doctor asked 

“Uh, yes. Yes we are.” He slipped his hand into his breast pocket, where he had stored an assortment of IDs just in case, pulling out the ID with the ridged edge, so he knew which one it was. Sam did the same. 

“So,” he said, flashing the ID and looking at the doctor’s nametag. “Dr. Michael, what can you tell us about Christina Cormack?” 

“Oh, do call me James.” The doctor said. “And our Christina certainty is a miracle. She came in here needing a bone marrow transplant, and the next thing we knew she was cancer free. No one can explain it. Though I am sure it has everything to do with our excellent staff here at… are you getting this down?” 

“Uh,” Sam looked at Dean “Yeah.” He said looking reaching his pockets as if to get out a notebook. He patted his pockets a few times. “I seemed to have forgotten my notebook,” he said “Do you mind?” he pointed to the doctor’s clip board and took it before he could answer. 

“Did anything strange happen around the time Christina arrived?” Dean asked, trying to distract the doctor. He fired questions at Dr. Michael for the next few minutes, never allowing him more time to speak then it took to answer. 

“Paging Dr. Michael,” The receptionist’s voice came on over the PA system “Paging Dr. Michael.” 

“Well that looks like your queue.” Sam said, shoving the clipboard into his hands and forcefully ushering him down the hall. Sam slipped back behind Dean as the doctor continuing down the hall, looking very flustered and confused. 

“Did you get it? Dean asked 

“Yep.” Sam pulled the paper where he had taken his ‘notes’ out of his pants pocket. “Christina Cormack,” he said, reading from her patient file. “Age 17, originally from Pittsburg, current residence Liverpool Texas.” 

“Seriously?” Dean asked 

Sam glanced up “Apparently.” He continued reading. “She was brought in a week ago for Stage 4 leukemia.” 

“Okay, Dean said “Anything else?” 

“Yeah, get this,” he said” So this morning her doctor went to give her here morning checkup, and found her perfectly healthy.” He looked up “She even had her hair back.” 

“Okay, that’s weird.” Dean said in response “But not exactly the typical MO of a monster.” Her tapped a sign on his right, proclaiming room 23E. 

“Hang on,” Sam said stopping Dean from opening the door “A man was seen leaving her room this morning, just before her doctor arrived, but there was no record of him arriving. Christina claims no one was in her room.” 

“Let me see.” Dean said, taking the file “The man is described to be stout, and is about 5’8 to 5’10. “ Dean stopped reading and looked at Sam, annoyance evident on his face. “carrying a can and has a funny accent.” 

Realization dawned on Sam ‘Please no.’ he thought “Dean, that would mean she really is our sister.” Dean had thought of the same thing. He folded the paper up angrily and shoved it in his pocket. 

“Let’s go meet sister dearest.” He said sarcastically happy, pulling open the door. 

  
  
  
The room had that pristinely clean smell that was in every hospital, some more than others. It was a single patient dwelling, with white tile floors and whitewash walls. Sam glanced into the bathroom on his right, making sure no one, and nothing was waiting to ambush them, and saw nothing but a toothbrush and handicap rails. Everything seemed to be in perfect order. 

The bed was a different story. The green sheets were rumpled from being slept in, and the pillow has been shoved to the floor. Little strands of something brown were strewn around. A glance up at the bed confirmed Dean’s suspicions of what it was. 

Christina Cormack was tall. Standing up, she would probably be eyelevel with Sam’s shoulder. And she was beautiful. She had deep red lipstick and long, dark brown hair. 

Well, it was before she took a scalpel to it. 

She looked up when they entered, her piercing eyes taking Dean aback. They were a deep chocolate brown, with gold at the center, flaring out. If you took out the gold, there was no doubt those were John Winchester’s eyes. 

Sam cleared his throat “Christina…” 

“Do either of you have something sharper than this?” She asked, gesturing to the scalpel. She still held a quarter of her hair in her right hand, doing the cutting with her left. 

‘She’s left handed like Dad.’ Sam thought 

“Um,” Dean said, flicking his eyes to Sam “Sure.” He flipped out a pocket knife, handing it to her handle first. She expertly took it and the rest of her hair soon fell to the floor. What was left was short and choppy, no more than two or three inches long. 

She evened everything up the best she could and flipped the knife closed, handing it back. “Thanks,” she said “ that scalpel I nicked off the surgeon, oh what’s her name?” she thought about it for a minute “Conn, Surgeon Conn, it just wasn’t sharp enough.” She said gesturing to her hair. 

“It actually looks good.” Sam said awkwardly finding his voice. 

“Thanks.” She said, flashing him a dazzling smile, one making Dean realize that he would soon be putting the fear of God, or at least him, into a bunch of boys. 

‘Aw shit,’ he thought ‘I’m already thinking of her as my baby sister.’ 

And he was. She was spunky and it was obvious that she could take care of herself, that she had taken care of herself for a very long time. She had a smiling face that always light up a room, but her eyes had the same look Dean’s did, the look of having to grow up way to fast and much too soon. Dean could tell she would get along great with the rest of the family, especially Jo and Ash. 

“So what can I do for you handsome?” She shifted her eyes to Sam “Handsomes.” She corrected 

“We’re actually, um, John’s sons.” Dean said 

She didn’t blink. 

“John Winchester.” Sam supplied 

She raised an eyebrow. ‘How do people do that?’ Dean thought 

Sam cleared his throat “John Winchester was your father.” He said carefully, not sure how much of a touchy subject their dad was. 

“Oh, you must be Sam and Dean.” She realized. She stuck out her hand “Christina Cormack.” 

Dean shot Sam a surprised look at how nonchalantly she was taking this, but shook her hand anyway. “You want some water?” he asked 

“Sure, the cups are by the sink.” she said, turning to shake Sam’s hand “It’s a real bummer the handsome ones are always off limits. I don’t even know you yet genetics forbid all hope.” She said dramatically, pressing her hand to her heart, and fell back, forgetting her pillow was still on the floor. 

“Ow,” she said wincing as her back hit the sharp plastic of the bed. 

Dean came back and handed her her pillow and a small clear plastic cup, filled with water. If you weren’t looking, you would never have seen the silver flask he was discreetly slipping into the inner pocket on his jacket. 

“Thanks.” she said draining it in a gulp. 

No reaction. 

“Christina,” Sam said “You had cancer.” 

“Thanks for the update.” She said jokingly, smiling up at him in a way that screamed Winchester. Sam had seen Dean give him that look way to many times not to recognize it. 

“But you don’t anymore.” Sam stated 

“For those of you just tuning in,” she said, pretending she was holding a microphone like a news anchor. “That was Dean Winchester, stating the obvious.” 

Dean laughed as Sam flushed red “Actually that’s Sam,” he pointed “and I’m Dean.” 

“Oh,” She said “that takes all the fun out of that.” She rolled her eyes 

“What I mean is,” Sam said with a terse smile “How?” 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she crossed her arms and looked at them, with a look that was very Winchester. 

Sam looked at Dean “Try us.” 

  
  
  
“I thought he was a perv when he told me I had to seal the deal with a kiss.” She said “But he said:” 

“I assure you, I’m quite real. And I’m telling you the truth, which to be honest is quite rare for people of my… well people from where I’m from.” She said, doing an almost perfect impression of Crowley. Even Dean was impressed. 

“But I figured I had nothing to lose, so I gave it a shot.” She was winding down now “Can’t say I’m disappointed, but would it have been so hard to put my hair back how it was?” 

Christina looked at their dumbstruck faces “Told you you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“Oh no, we believe you.” Sam said “We had our fair share of run in’s with Crowley, err the man you made the deal with.” He clarified 

“What we don’t understand,” Dean took over “Is why you would sell your soul to the devil.” he was using that voice that always made Sam feel like he had let him down, making him feel like he was 5 again. 

Christian looked Dean in the eye, unfazed “I just got my freedom back from that hellhole foster system.” She said seriously “I wasn’t going to lose it to cancer.” 

A nurse walked in “Time for you noon checkup Christina,” She said in that annoyingly cheerful voice that it seemed only nurses could conjure. She looked around “is this a bad time?” She asked, sensing the tension in the room. 

“No.” Sam said, standing quickly “We’ll wait in the hall.” 

  
  
  
“Dude, she isn’t safe with us.” Dean said the minute they walked out the door “Hell, we’re not even safe with us.” 

“Yeah I know, but what are we supposed to do Dean?” Sam fired back “She is obviously our sister, there is no denying that.” 

Dean looked at the door that had swung shut behind them. “She is safer without us.” Dean said, holding up a hand before Sam could protest “At least for the next ten years she is.” 

“So we’re just going to leave her here?” Sam exclaimed “We don’t leave family behind Dean.” 

“We do if it is for their own good Goddamn it.” Dean was angry “We go hunt that bastard Crowley down and persuade him to give her her soul back, then we get Balthazar or Cas to zap us back to her. 

“That’s actually not a bad plan,” Sam said sarcastically “except we aren’t exactly on good terms with the king of Hell.” 

“We don’t have to be friends,” Dean said “We just have to get our little sister’s soul back.” 

  
  
  
“Where did I put my keys?” Dean asked a few minutes later. 

“Did you drop them in the back when we were putting the knifes and salt up?” Sam asked in response, from the passenger seat in the Impala. Dean got out of the car and walked around back. 

“Found ‘em” he said, spotting his baby’s keys behind his right wheel tire. He got back in the driver’s seat and slipped the key into the ignition. He slid her into reverse when he heard his back rear, driver’s side door open and shut. 

Sam had his gun out and pointed at the back before Dean has time to slam his baby back into park. 

Christina was in the back clothed in dark skinny jeans, a red tank top and a worn brown leather jacket, instead of the hospital gown she had on when they first saw her. Her hands were in the air. 

“Whoa there.” She said and Sam lowered his gun. 

“What are you doing here Christina?” Dean asked frustrated. 

“I heard what you said, and I want in.” 

“Heard what?” Sam asked, playing dumb. Clearing his face of all expression. 

“If you’re going after this guy, this Crowley, who is going to kill me and take my soul in ten years, do ya really think I’m just going in a hospital bed, in a hospital full of people who won’t mind their own business? You wouldn’t” 

“It’s not safe.” Dean growled 

“Either way I’m going to die,” She shot back matter of factly “I sold my soul for ten years” her voice had shifted from heated to soft “What do you think I would do for a lifetime?” 

“Fair point.” Dean said “Roadhouse?” 

“I didn’t want leave her behind in the first place,” Sam said, settling back in his seat for the ride. 

“Shut up.” Dean said smiling, and put his baby in reverse. 

“Christina Winchester,” the melodic voice came from the back seat, where only the deep, gravelly voice of Castiel, Bobby’s twang, or the voices of Sam and Dean as children had ever come from. “Has a much better ring to it than Christina Cormack, no?” 

The brothers couldn’t help but laugh, Sam throwing back his head and clapping his hands while Dean just ducked his head and chuckled. Sam tossed her a red bundle that was at his feet; it landed in her lap. 

“It’s cold up north,” he said, still smiling “You’ll need another one of these.” 

Christina smiled and replaced her leather jacket with the red zip up hoodie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, see that little button at the bottom? Yeah, the one that says comment? Click it and let me know what you think! Next: Christina meets the Harvelles :) In this world, the Roadhouse and crew are still around because personally, they are my favorite characters and I couldn't see thsi fic without them... especially Jo. How do ya'll think the two little sisters will feel about each other?
> 
> Update: Sorry guys, I promise I will update soon, but my internet is messed up right now, and this is about all I can do :( but I promise I have 2 chapters for you next time I post, maybe even 3. The first 2 are doing their final run through my coauthor, along with my first ever Doctor Who fan fiction. Keep an eye out, it is entitled, The Nanny.


	4. The Roadhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updating is taking so long, I live in the middle of nowhere (population a whopping total of 65) and my internet doesn't work all that well

Dean felt the tension release from his shoulders when he turned onto the dusty road the led strait to the Roadhouse. This road had always meant home to him and his brother, and it still did.

He and Sam had taken turns driving through the night to get back to Nebraska, it was early in the morning, around 3am but Ellen and Jo would just be closing the Roadhouse for the night. Bobby was there waiting to meet Christina, having told the Harvelles about the youngest Winchester as soon as he got the call from Sam telling him where they were heading. 

Sam saw Dean’s shoulders relax, and smiled. The Roadhouse meant they could unwind for a while, even if it was only for a couple of beers while Ash was doing his thing. They didn’t always have to look over their shoulders and wonder if the thing they were hunting was on the stool next to them, chatting up that blonde, only to take her back to the nest so it and its brothers could feed. 

Dean pulled the Impala into the Roadhouse parking lot, the cloud of dust from the tires slowly settling as they open the doors, but not without getting into their eyes and breathing passages first. Sam grabs his laptop and looks back at Christina, who had slung her bag over her shoulder and was now eying the Roadhouse warily, the first time they had seem a crack in her wall of confidence. It just made him want to protect her more then he already felt he had to as a big brother, and he vowed to himself that he wouldn’t let his whole family rush her at once. It was his first time being a big brother, and he wanted to be just as good of one as Dean. Dean had never told him of all the things he had done for him, but he had always kind of known that Dean had taken a lot for him, a lot of beatings for him. More than once Dean had come back to their motel tell room with some sort of injury. When he was little he believed that Dean had just fallen and gotten hurt, but as he grew older he started to realize that it was a bit more. 

The first time he really thought about it was when Dean was changing and Sam, then eight, saw the welts on his back that has looked suspiciously like a seatbelt the way the ends were shaped, but mostly he knew once John hadn’t let Dean take his punishment, said it was time Sam took responsibility for his own actions, and Sam has the burns that week. But as soon as John left to go back on the hunt Dean had sat him down on the closed toilet, and started dabbing burn cream where John had pushed the cigarette into his skin. ‘I’ m only doing this because I love you and want you to be safe.’ His Dad had said, flicking the cigarette butt away. But Dean had been the one to whip his tears away, and say how sorry he was as he wrapped Sam’s forearm in gauze from their Dad’s first aid kit, being careful not to hurt him anymore then he had to. Dean had been the one who had hugged him as he cried himself to sleep that night, cradling his forearm to his chest and burying his face in Dean’s shirt. That was one of the many reasons he had given Dean the necklace he had meant to give to Dad, John not showing up for Christmas was just the last straw. That was the night he realized his Dad was messed up, and why he decided he wanted to become a lawyer. He wanted to put people like John who beat their kids behind bars, to make sure the kids never had to deal with that again. He hadn’t thought about it then, but Dean had needed out too, but couldn’t leave John alone. He had remembered John before Mom died, and had good memories. Sam’s only good memories were of Uncle Bobby’s house. And Dean. 

Dean noticed the apprehensive look on Christina’s face. “I promise they won’t eat you.” He said “Though Ash looks like he might.” He amended “But at worst he will give you a bear hug and show off his computer skills.” He started walking towards the front doors. 

Sam stretched a hand out for her to take, “It’ll be fine.” He said. 

Christina scoffed at the outstretched hand and Sam retracted it. “Just trying to be a good big brother.” He said and gestured for Christina to follow Dean, who was waiting to open the door. 

  
  
  
When Dean opened the door for her, Christina walked in and looked around, an 40 something-ish woman with light brown hair behind the bar, wiping glasses with a rag. In front of her sitting on one of the stools was a big, bearded man with graying dark brown hair, barely visible under the baseball cap. Christina suspected he had a bald spot, because most 50 some odd men who wear baseball caps do. 

Her eyes were drawn to a man passed out on the sole pool table at the back of the room, with a mullet and a tattoo on her shoulder, spelling something out in Chinese but she couldn’t make it out from here ‘Probably thinks it spells courage or something equally predictable, and it more likely spells dipshit or something like that.’ He was wearing a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and a couple necklaces ‘I’ll probably like him best,’ she thought, seeing the computer beside him, ‘he looks like a party, at least in the back.’ She snorts at her own joke, but was glad she hadn’t said it out loud when Dean shoots her an inquisitive look. 

The door beside the bar swings open and a girl walks in. if you looked at her hair, you would think she was a cheerleader. But if you looked at the knife strapped to her belt, you would think not. Christina felt an instant dislike for her, for an unexplainable reason. 

‘Probably just another dumb, blonde bitch.’ She muttered in Japanese 

The man in the ball cap that was sitting at the bar guffawed and Christina looked at him in surprise ‘Jo?’ he asked, also in Japanese ‘blonde yes, dumb, no. Bitch is debatable.’ 

Christina flushed, realizing he had understood her ‘You know Japanese.’ 

‘Yep,’ he continued ‘why did you learn?’ 

‘There was a boy in foster care who had just immigrated from Japan and didn’t speak much English’ she explained ‘And I had a free weekend.’ This got another laugh out of the man, and Christina decided this might not be so bad after all. And it was true, she did learn in a weekend. She didn’t like to advertise it, but she was incredibly smart. When she was seven she hacked into the PETCO companies’ system and convinced it she was an adult, and had paid for and ordered a pony, plus all the supplies she would need. Her Foster mom had sent it back; sure it was a mistake that her name had ended up on the ticket, unaware of ever making the purchase. That might have been because she never did. 

When she got older, she started to earn money to run away from the foster homes she was put in by taking hacking jobs. When she was fourteen, she hacked into the CIA to get information for a mob boss who had sent one of his goons to talk to her. It was no problem and it got her all the way to California before she was picked up by an officer who was doing a random drug bust on the motel she was staying in, checking every room. That was one of the reasons her eyes kept being drawn to the computer next to the man with the mullet, it looked like it could do anything for her. 

‘Christina,’ she said, still in Japanese ‘Am I correct in assuming you are the Uncle Bobby who told these two,’ She gestured to Sam and Dean ‘about me?’ 

Bobby chuckled ‘Yep, that’s me.’ He shook her hand 

Dean cleared his throat. “If we could switch back to the language of this great country we live in, that would be great.” He said sarcastically 

Christina gave him a Death stare and looked at Bobby ‘Just because of the attitude, I think I want to speak like this all day.’ She said but then switched back to English. 

The lady came around the bar, throwing the rag over her shoulder to stretch out a hand. “Hi,” she said “I’m Ellen, this is my daughter Jo,” She snapped the rag towards the girl who had come through the door “that’s Bobby and the hoodlum drooling all over my pool table is Ash.” This time she threw the rag, and it landed on the mullet man’s head. He shot up and grabbed his computer, clutching it to his chest protectively. 

“Ash, come meet Christina.” She said 

Ash realized no one was going to steal his computer, and set it down in favor of standing up. He half jogged over to where they were standing, and engulfed Christina in a hug lifting her off the ground. “Dr. Badass.” He said introducing himself. 

“Christina,” she choked out a laugh and Ash let her go ‘Oh yeah, she was defiantly going to like him best.’ 

“Jo,” Ellen prompted 

Jo was still leaning against the bar, with one foot up against its side. She had one arm crossed and in the other she was twirling the knife that had been in the now empty sheath on her belt. She was eyeing Christina, making her dislike her all the more. 

“Come on baby sist… Uh.” Dean faltered to a stop. He had been about to call Jo his baby sister, but then he thought about the fact that he actually had a little sister, not just a cousin who was one to him. 

Sweetheart, I know I’m hot, but I’m not interested in you.” Christian said snidely, cutting Dean off “So you can stop eyeballing me.” 

Jo flushed with anger and looked at Sam and Dean, seeing if they would let the bitch talk to her like that. Christina looked at them too. Sam and Dean kind of stood there awkwardly, Sam with a hand in his pocket and the other on his laptop bag, while Dean fiddled with the gun he had slipped out of the waistband of his jeans, though there was no immediate danger. 

Jo looked back at Christina “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I don’t buy it. You hurt my brothers and I will hunt you down to my last breath. “

“Your brothers,” Christina scoffed “last I checked, they were mine.” 

“No,” She said firmly, gripping her knife tighter “They are my brothers. I have fought monsters with them, something you will never get to do. I may not know who, or WHAT you are but I will find out, and I WILL kill you.” 

“Ladies,” Dean said with a smile, trying to diffuse the tension by putting a hand on both their shoulders “No need to fight over us. There is plenty of brotherly love to go around.” 

“Shut up Dean. I don’t need your help.” They both said and shrugged his hand off; they looked at each other in surprise. 

“Maybe,” Christina said slowly, “you aren’t so bad after all.” she grudgingly admitted 

“I guess no monster would willingly walk into a room full of hunters AND let one put a hand on them.” Jo sniffed “You wanna beer?” she asked 

“Love one.” she said and slipped her arm into Jo’s. Arm in arm they walked back to the bar, which in anger Jo had stalked away from and Jo hoped the counter to grab some beers. Ash came over to join them 

“Joanna Beth.” Ellen scolded “You better not have gotten my bar dirty or you’ll be up all night scrubbin’.” 

“What just happened?” Dean asked, looking at the remaining 3 people around him for an answer. 

“Isn’t she under age?” Sam asked, referencing Christina 

“Isn’t Jo.” Ellen said dismissively “Plus I’d be willing to bet that didn’t exactly stop you boys when you were their age. You were drinking before you could drive, if now is any indication.” 

“Fair enough.” Dean said, “Toss me a beer Jo.” 

The beer smashed into a thousand pieces when it hit the floor, and laughter filled the room when Ellen grabbed the towel she had thrown at Ash and chunked it for her daughter’s head.” 


	5. The more you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how much you absolutely "HATE" two chapters in one day, but here you go

Once Jo had cleaned up the mess of the beer bottle, with Christina’s help, they sat down at a corner table with their beers. Jo slid a coaster across the table for her.

“So you’re from Pittsburg?” Jo asked, adjusting herself in the seat so one foot was in the chair next to her. 

Christina gave her a startled look “How did you…” She trailed off 

Jo shot a thumb over her shoulder, pointing to Ash who at the moment was trying to see how many peanuts he could stuff in his mouth at one time. “Even though he doesn’t look it, Ash is a genius. As soon as Bobby told us about you, he was on his computer looking up your life history.” 

That worried Christina a little bit, she didn’t know these people. But at the same time it intrigued her, she had done the same thing with Sam and Dean when the doctors had first told her she had brothers. She had never met anyone else who could find out a life history, but then again Jo might be exaggerating. 

“How much do you know?” She asked apprehensively 

Jo looked as though she was preparing to make a very long speech. “You are from Pittsburg, but moved around a lot because you were put in foster care and kept running away. You have run away from 17 foster homes, only staying there for tops a few months. The fastest you have run away was after 2 days, in Cincinnati. You tried to order a pony when you were seven, well you succeeded.” She amended “But your foster mom sent it back, that was the first time you ran off, but you were caught just a little down the Road at the corner store. You were diagnosed with cancer about a year and a half ago, on December 27th. Your eyesight is -1.25 but you hate wearing glasses and your foster parent’s refused to get you contacts, so eventually you stopped asking, and you just don’t wear them. Your best friends name was Brittany, and you are allergic to strawberries.” She finished. 

Maybe not. Christina looked over at Ash, who was trying to look at her without her noticing, to gauge her reaction. “In my defense,” she told him “the son of my foster mom in Cincinnati was a slob and kept hitting on me.” Both Jo and Ash laughed, but Ash looked slightly disappointed that she hadn’t been more impressed. “And,” she continued, meeting Ash’s eyes “Sam and Dean are from Lawrence, Kansas. They were born on May 2, 1983 and January 24th, 1979 respectively. Their house burned down on November 2, 1983, with their mother, Mary, still inside. The police wrote it down as an accident, even though Mary’s stomach was slashed open. Later their Dad, well, our Dad, fell apart, and went looking for the killer. They traveled the road, hunting monsters, but at the time they did not know about demons like Crowley. Sam, who by the way was named for Mary’s dad, left the house after a big fight to go to Harvard to study law. He got engaged to a girl named Jessica Moore, and on November 2, 2005 Dean showed up on their doorstep, or rather, broke into their house, and later the same thing happened to Jessica as it did to Mary, she burned on the ceiling, above Sam’s bed, belly slashed. Sam joined Dean in hunting the thing down, who later turned out to be Azazel, they were also framed for murder back in St. Louis, Sam’s favorite color is purple, and Dean’s favorite beer is Corona del Sol. Sam hates clowns, and the ring Dean wears was his mom’s. 

Ash shot a glance over to the brothers to see if they had told her all of this. They were all staring wide eyed and open mouthed at her, beers forgotten on the bar. 

Ash looked back to her and she winked “Anything is out there if you know where to look.” She nonchalantly took a swing of her beer, turning back to her conversation with Jo, who was giving her the same wide eyed stare. “Oh come on,” Christina said slightly exasperated “you don’t honestly think someone tells me I have two brothers and expect me not to look them up .” 

“That’s a lot more than a google search, honey.” Ash said looking impressed and a little turned on. 

She shrugged “I know how to research,” she said modestly, blushing a little. She hadn’t meant to show off, she usually tried to hide the fact she was smarter then everyone else.’ But maybe not Ash’ she thought, she had wiped her tracks after the PETCO incident. “You don’t get the Mob into your debt by google searching, any oaf can do that.” She stopped, realizing she said to much again, and possibly insulted Sam. 

“THE Mob.” Bobby emphasized the 'the'. 

“Yep.” She said “you need a hit man, I’m your girl.” ‘For more reason’s then one.’ she thought silently. The Boss had taken a liking to her, and had her trained a couple of years ago, she could handle a gun, no problem. Lock picking? Forget it; she would have it done in less than 30 seconds. Now poison was a bit harder, she had drawn the line at practicing on The Boss’s goons. 

“How did you get the Mob under your thumb?” Ellen asked. 

“By getting through the CIA’s firewalls.” She said, figuring she had already basically given herself away “The Boss likes me.” She added as an afterthought. 

“Seriously?” Ash asked “All it took was the CIA? Not even an international program?” 

“Nope, they aren’t as smart as you would think, the one’s higher up are, but they don’t have time.” She said “I had it done in 3 days.” 

Ash looked at the rest of them “I need to contact the Mob,” he said “I could use some cash.” He looked back at Christina “I did it in 2.” He said, a little smugly 

“I was ten.” She retorted. Ash got a determined look on his face and turned to his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard. Christina laughed turned back to Jo. 

“I think Ash might like you.” She whispered in awe “Like actually like you. I used to joke that the only feelings he had were for his computer. That and partying, he is all for a party full of half-dressed girls.” 

“Doubt it.” Christina said “Highly.” She added to make a point. 

Christina stood up a couple hours later and went to help Ellen carry the burgers out of the kitchen. “Breakfast of champions” Ellen Said and handed her the tray with filled with fries. Christina went to passed them out to her new family, all of which were sitting at the bar except for Ash. He was still sitting on his pool table, which by this point Christina thought that he actually thought it was his bed. She went behind him to deliver him his dinner. 

Dean watched from his place at the bar, as Christina walked over to hand Ash his fries. She said some stuff the Dean knew he would never remember, and pointed at the screen, startling the mullet clad man. Ash said some stuff back, and Christina sat on the pool table beside him, and they started debating on different ways to hack into whatever was on Ash’s screen. This went on for a few minutes and then Ash mad a few keystrokes and there was a mini celebration as Ash fist bumped her, looking less hurt now about her accomplishments as a child. 

‘Well at least,’ he thought ‘if they do get together I know she will be safe.’ Ash picked up his gun and shot a hole in the roof as part of the celebration, which cause Ellen to start yelling at him, telling him he would be the one to fix it. ‘Well mostly.’ Dean thought ‘If I have to have a brother in law eventually, at least I like Ash.’ 

“Hey guys, get this.” Sam said, leaning back a little from his computer as the others crowded around so they could see. “Andorson Tx.” He said “A girl, Andrea Thompson was killed, while the class was pulling their senior prank. She was found in the cafeteria scalped, no one was around, and they all came running when they heard her scream. The police are at a loss.” 

“So there were no witness’s .” Dean asked. 

“Nope, but the police noted the room smelled like sulfur.” Sam said, looking at him “sounds like our kind of thing.” 

“Damn it,” Dean said exasperated “We were just in Texas. I don’t wanna go back, it’s hot.” 

“Quit your whining.” Christina said “it is not that bad, wait till August.” 

Sam sighed “Lets catch a couple hours of sleep before heading back.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said 

“Christina, you can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” Sam shut his laptop down 

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow “You’re huge; there is no way your fitting on a couch, just give me an extra pillow and I will be fine.” 


	6. Oh my God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied at the end of the last chapter. I am so so sorry! I thought I had uploaded this chapter but I hadn't. I apologize profusely. I will try to post another chapter tomorrow as way of apology. But that depends on if respnee can read it ( so yell at her)

Dean slammed the door to the Impala, “You’re sure this is our kind of thing?” he asked Sam for the 17th time.

“Dude,” Sam growled, exasperated. “Yes, I told you.” 

“So you’re sure.” Dean repeats 

Sam groaned and moved to put his ear buds in to drown Dean’s questions out with Hey Jude, a song that always reminded Sam of his mom. He did not remember her, but Dean had told Sam that whenever he cried, she would sing it to him. Though he doesn’t remember, after she died, Sam started crying, the smoke stinging his eyes and throat, the loud noises from the sirens upsetting him. Dean sat holding him under the apple tree, and, not knowing what else to do, started to sing it to him, the smoke making his little voice raspy. That was how John found them, hours later, huddled under the tree where they had had a family picnic that afternoon, Sam asleep and Dean still singing, because it was the only thing he could do to take care of his little brother. 

“Boys,” Christina scolded playfully, in her best impression of Ellen. She had followed Dean to the car and slid into the back seat “Arguing won’t help anything. And Dean,” she said turning to him “As much as you hate Texas, it doesn’t smell like sulfur, that’s Yellowstone.” She shoved her bag to the floor, and threw her legs over the front bench seat, so that her feet were in between the men. She was now fully accustom to having brothers, and was actually enjoying it. All her life she had to watch out for herself, having no one else to do it for her. In less than the twenty four hours she knew them, she had grown close to her new family, all their numbers plugged into her phone. 

It was odd, having people who cared about her. When she was bringing Ash a beer, she had tripped and fell, her hand landing in the smashed glass. It had immediately started bleeding, but before she had a chance to even process what had happened both Sam and Dean were beside her, Dean helping her get up out of the glass, and Sam using his flannel as a plaid, makeshift bandage. They had set her on a bar stood and Ellen was beside her in a flash, a first aid kit in her hand. 

~8 hours ago~ 

Ellen set the bloody needle down and reached for the gauze, glancing up at Christina’s face, who as watching her, slightly wrinkled hands, work. “What?” She asked 

Christina didn’t meet her eyes “Nothing.” 

Ellen stopped wrapping the injured hand and tapped Christina’s chin to get her to look at her. “What?” she asked again, softer this time. 

Christina mumbled something that Ellen had to strain to hear. 

“One more time.” Ellen said, still patient, but not for long if she had to keep asking. 

“It’s weird,” Christina said, louder this time but still a quiet whisper, not so much because she didn’t want her brothers, who had been hovering around her till Ellen had gotten fed up and banished them to the pool table, to hear, but because of the emotion behind it. 

“What is?” Ellen asked. If you didn’t count the fact that every gun in the place was loaded, even the ones on the wall, and that there were huge bags of salt in the basement and strategically placed behind the bar, and that there were Demons traps in invisible paint, only able to be seen with a black light, but would sure keep the demons in one place. Oh and the Dead man’s, Virgin’s and goat’s blood in the refrigerator, Ellen though the place was pretty normal. 

Christina nodded to her hand “That.” She said cryptically 

Ellen raised an eyebrow “I’m not following.” 

Christina looked at her again “I have been in foster care for a very, VERY long time.” She explained, small tears rolling over her cheeks “I never had anyone to take care of me, to WANT to take care of me.” 

“Oh Baby,” Ellen said, putting an arm around the teenager and planting a kiss on her temple. “That’s what family is for. Taking care of each other, watching each other’s backs, kissing each other’s boo boos, and annoying the crap out of you on prom night.” 

“Yeah,” Jo said, a few feet away, it being her turn to get the burgers (Turns out her new family could really pack them away) “You should have seen Levi’s face when he walked in to pick me up and saw this lot.” She nodded to the men at the pool table as Dean sunk the 8 ball, winning the game. 

~Present~

Christina laughed at the mental image Jo had painted for her, filled with glares and intimidating voices, as the brothers and Bobby had decided that the best time to clean and oil all the guns in the Roadhouse, Impala, and Bobby’s truck was right before Levi showed up, so when he came in all he saw was bullets and gun oil smeared men. Jo said Levi didn’t dare come to the place again, and hadn’t spoken to her since. It was for the best, as he turned out to be a shady character, and had pulled the car into the abandoned lot a few blocks from the school after the dance, and tried to make a move on her. According to Jo, he was in the hospital for 3 days, and when he came back gave her a wide berth and the chair a colorful scolding every time he sat down. Apparently he didn’t know Jo always had a knife on her, and didn’t really need it. 

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror from the driver’s seat, which he had occupied for the past few hours, when he and Dean had switched seats somewhere in Oklahoma. “What?” he asked smiling 

“Prom night.” She said cryptically glancing back out the window as she watched the Texas landscape go by. “How far are we?” she asked 

“Twenty minutes” Sam said “We can get something to eat when we get there.” They had slept most of the day, and had ended up leaving well into the next night, so it was only around lunchtime. 

“Good I’m hungry.” Dean said drowsily, waking from his sleep at the mention of food. “Burgers.” He said “Burger’s and pie.” 

“You had burger’s last night.” Christina said 

Dean turned all the way around and looked at her seriously. “Burgers,” he said “are a staple. They are God’s gift to man.” 

“What about pie?” Sam asked mockingly innocent 

“Pie is how he shows us he loves us. People who don’t like pie aren’t loved as much. People who can’t tell the difference between pie and cake,” he said shooting Sam a stoney faced look, “Aren’t loved at all. Specifically ones with long hair, those are his least favorite.” 

Sam let out a exasperated breath and stepped on the gas petal. 

  
  
  
  
“I cannot believe you got pulled over in my car.” Dean said, pissed slamming the door to the Impala. 

“Dude, I said I was sorry, nothing happened.” 

“Yeah thanks to me flirting with that officer,” Dean gripped stalking around the car to stand in front of Sam, looking menacing even though he was a good few inches shorter than the younger Winchester “ and he was a guy!” 

“Dude, I was only going a few miles over the limit, that officer was just in a bad mood.” 

“I don’t know about you boys,” Christina said, walking towards the cracked red door of the small café, the sign on the side of the white wall reading Cott’s Café. “But I want some onion rings.” 

  
  
  
  
“Two bacon cheeseburgers, one with fries, one with onion rings, a chef’s salad, two beers and a coke.” Sam said to the friendly waitress, a dirty blonde with gray streaks and a toothy grin. 

“Okay, I’ll get that right out.” She said, finishing writing as she walked away. 

Christina shot a suspicious look at Sam, “That salad better not be for me.” She said 

“No,” Dean dismissed “He is a health nut. He actually jogs. Unlike me, he” he put a finger in Sam’s face “can live on rabbit food.” 

“Vegetables, Dean” Sam corrected 

“Whatever,” Dean turned around in his green backed chair to an older man with a cowboy hat and boots beside them. He pulled out a badge from his breast pocket and flashed it at the man “FBI,” he said I’m Agent Willis, and this is Agent Zuckerman,” Sam flashed a badge at the man as well “What can you tell us about the, uh, incident at the school,” he nodded to the west wall, which just a mile passed lay the school. 

The man looked Sam and Dean, and their badges, then at Christina. “Who’s she?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Uh,” Dean turned to look at her, wheels spinning. As Christina said: 

“Kimberly.” She leaned over Dean and extended a hand “My school gave an assignment for us to shadow our parents for a week, I think I got the best side of that deal. Precal or bacon cheeseburgers, no contest.” 

The man eyed the hand and then looked at the brothers, Sam’s eyebrows were raised, but other than that they seemed perfectly innocent. “Nither of ‘em look old enough to have a teenager.” 

“Well, since they can’t have kids naturally,” she gave him a knowing look “They wanted to adopt soon after they tied the knot, but with their job no one could stay home with a baby, so they adopted me.” She shot the man a dazzling smile. Dean gave her a shocked look, and Sam’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Sorry papa,” Christina gave Dean a peck on the cheek and turned back to the man “They don’t like talk about it, people treat them badly even though they are the government.” 

The man’s frown turned to a smile, his beard shifting as the muscles in his face moved. “Well don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he drawled “I won’t treat your Dad’s any different, unlike most folks around these parts.” She shot him another smile and took a sip of her coke. 

“The girl’s death wasn’t an accident.” He continued. Sam’s and Dean’s heads shot up to look at him, the younger pulling out a notebook to write on. 

“Why would you say that?” Sam asked 

“My wife.” The man said matter-a-factly. 

“How does your wife know?” Sam asked 

“She’s doing it.” He said 

“She killed that girl?” 

“Girls.” He corrected, “another one died three days ago.” 

“What is her name?” Dean asked 

“Who’s name?” the man said 

“Your wife’s” Sam responded 

“I don’t have a wife.” The man said and got up to leave. 

The waitress came running over and said “Andrew, you haven’t paid your bill yet.” 

“Oh of course,” he handed her a twenty “See you tomorrow Jessica.” 

The man left and the waitress turned to refill Sam’s water glass. “Poor man, has Alzheimer’s, makes up a new name for me every day.” 

“Do you know his wife’s name?” Dean asked quickly. 

“Nope, never met her, she died a few months ago, right after he got the disease.” She glanced up at the sound of a bell. “I think that’s your food.” She said and went to get it. 

Dean slowly turned to Christina. “Gay.” He said 

“I was acting,” she said “When do I get one of those?” she pointed to the badge 

“Ash is on it.” Sam said “He will be on it faster after this little stunt.” 

Christina grinned and leaned back so the waitress could put her food in front of her. Sam poured his dressing over his salad and Dean picked up his hamburger. 

Christina reaches for the ketchup when she hears “Oh my God” 

Both Sam and Christina looked up at Dean, who had a big bite taken out of his burger, and was staring at it in awe, mouth open, half chewed food visible. 

“Dude, Sam said “That’s gro…” 

Dean shoved a French fry in his mouth, “Oh my God.” he said 

He looked around the table briefly and grabbed an onion ring of Christina’s plate” 

“Hey!” she exclaimed, making a grab for it 

Dean shoved that in his mouth too “Oh my god.” he groaned, looking up to the heavens. 

A sign on the wall caught his eye “OH MY GOD.” 

Pie~ 

Cherry, Apple, Blueberry, Chocolate, Coconut, Lemon 

Slice~ 1.29 Whole pie~ 10.00 

  
  
  
  
“Oh my God.” Dean said, “That’s the new Carter’s.” Dean said, cradling his pies. He had had 3 pieces in the store, and then got a whole one for the road. The cook thought it was so cute how much he liked her pies, so she sent him home with a rhubarb one they were testing out, free of charge. 

“Carter’s?” Christina questioned 

“A Dinner in St. Louis we aren’t allowed back to anymore.” Sam said as he drove the mile down the road to the school. 

“Do I want to know?” 

“No.” 

  
  
  
  
“Okay Chrisie,” Dean said, creating a nickname for her right on the spot “We’re going to enroll you in school here, and then go find some pest control uniforms or something to put on so we can get in. Keep an eye out for anything weird, talk to people, ask questions.” 

“I don’t think you need Pest control uniforms.” Christina said, nodding to a paper tapped to the glass on the door. 

The brother’s peered closer, and Dean groaned. 

“Told you you should have stuck with the tuba.” Sam said, 

“Shut up.” Dean spat out and yanked the door open. 


	7. Anderton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so Sorry for not posting. I'm so so so sorry.

“So you’re all set and the bell just rang for first period, so I’ll have Angela show you to your first class.” Mrs. Vanderbilt, the school secretary said, gesturing to the girl sitting at the table in the corner.

“Okay, thank you.” Christina said, she looked at Sam and Dean and smiled, seemingly innocently, but Sam and Dean had gotten to know her well enough to see the mischievous gleam in her eye. “By Dads.” She said and opened the door as Mrs. Vanderbilt hit the button to unlock it, holding it open for Angela. 

“Mr. and Mr. Winchester, here are your employee IDs, and Mr. Winchester your first class just started, the Band hall is down this hall and turn to the first hall on the left. The big double doors, you can’t miss it. And Mr. Winchester,” she turned to Dean “just follow this hallway all the way down and ask for Mrs. Hernandez.” 

“Thank you,” Sam said, picking up their lanyards with the IDs attached. 

“And I must tell you that there is to be no PDA between teachers.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Dean grumbled and stalked through the door that Sam held open. 

  
  
  
“So this is the dual credit English class.” Angela said, opening the door to a computer lab. “The Supervisor is Mrs. Ripcoski, but everyone just calls her Mrs. R. All the dual credit classes are online.” 

Christina looked into the classroom and saw only five students, all not doing what they were supposed to be doing. The two girls on the left were fixing their hair and drinking coffee out of Starbucks cups. The two boys in the middle were playing online games, and talking as if the teacher couldn’t hear them. The last girl who had long, curly black hair and was obviously of Hispanic heritage, was on YouTube, looking at Epic Rap battles of History. Christina could recognize a bunch of stuff on YouTube, because there isn’t much else to do in a hospital where everyone thought you’re going to die. 

“Hey, Mrs. R.” Angela said, “This is Christina.” 

“Hey,” Mrs. R said, “welcome to Anderton…” 

The intercom came on and interrupted Mrs. R. “Teachers, please pardon the interruption.” Mrs. Vanderbilt said through the PA “due to the accidental fire drill earlier in the week, we will not be having one today, Thank you.” 

“You can just take the seat over there and Josselyn will help you get started. 

Christina gave her a half smile and went to sit next to the girl on YouTube. She looked up when Christina sat down, obviously having only just noticed her. “Hi,” she said “I’m Josie.” She awkwardly shook Christina’s hand, as if trying to be formal but it really wasn’t her forte. 

“Christina.” Christina said, “What are we doing?” 

“Well,” Josselyn, or Josie as she had corrected earlier, said “We have accounts at the college, but I think you had to have already signed up for the class to be able to do it.” 

“Not a problem,” Christina said, “What college is it?” 

Josie told her the name of the college and in less than a minute Christina had hacked into their enrollment and enrolled herself, had all previous assignments marked as complete and graded, and was back out of the school’s database. 

Josie gave her a shocked look “How did you do that?” 

Christina gave her a sly look and said “I can get you around the school fire walls too.” 

Josie’s eyebrows shot up and said “Twitter.” 

Christina’s fingers flew over the keys on the keyboard, eyes shooting all over the screen. “Done.” She said a few seconds later. “To the Administration it will seem it is still blocked.” 

Josie quickly opened a new tab and pulled up her twitter account. “Oh, we are so going to be the best of friends.” She said. “Mrs. R doesn’t care what we do so long as we don’t disturb her. Can you do Instagram?” 

Forty three minutes and twenty-seven sites later, the bell rang. 

“What do you have next?” Josie asked. 

Christina looked at her class schedule, “Band.” 

“Same,” Josie said “I’ll show you where it is.” 

They left the classroom and entered the blue and white hallway. Two girls with short hair and one with long blonde hair fell into step beside them when they passed the next hallway. 

“Guys, this is Christina. Christina, this is Charlene,” She gestured to the blonde one “And Sarah and Brittany.” 

Christina looked at them the same way she looked at potential clients for her hacking skills, documenting everything she can about them and trying to decipher motives. Not that she thought this rag tag group of girls had any. 

Josie was about 5’6 and big boned. She had long curly black hair, which reached almost to the small of her back. She carried herself in a way that made others in the hallway move out of her way. Her Ipad was cracked, so she was clumsy. Her athletic shoes led Christina to believe she played a sport. 

Charlene was about Josie’s height and had blonde hair that fell just beneath her shoulder blades. Her dark eye makeup brought out the grey in her eyes, and she was dressed more like a preppy girl then Josie’s T-shirt and jeans. She wore several rings on each hand, including a class ring, meaning she was a senior like the rest of them. She had the word Love written on almost all her stuff, in a swirly font. 

Sarah was short, probably only about 5 feet tall, and her red brown hair was cropped short to her head, just shorter then Christina’s. She wore cloths that seemed to be randomly pulled out of a closet, but she managed to pull them off. Her hands were covered in paint, and she had a drawing of poop on her binder. 

Brittany was exactly the same height as Sarah, and also had short hair, but her dark brown was styled in a different way. She wore large, thick rimmed glasses, and lipstick. Her cloths seemed to be a mix between Sarah’s and Charlene’s, and her computer bag had a red Darlek on it. Christina knew that she was probably the one she would get along with the most. 

While Christina had been analyzing them, Josie had already explained that Christina had unlocked twenty seven websites that the school has blocked. 

“Can you do Tumblr?” Brittany inquired. 

“Next time I’m at a computer.” Christina promised 

They had reached the Band Hall, as it really was a small school. The room was large, with doors an almost ever wall, leading to practice rooms and storage. A large set of double doors on the right wall lead to the outside. Two doors on the left lead to the locker room, where most of the students were getting their instruments. “We have a new band teacher,” Brittany explained as the other girls went to take their seats. “Mr. Winchester. So we aren’t entirely sure what we are supposed to do right now.” 

“I know,” Christina said “he’s my br…Dad. Where do the clarinets sit?” She asked 

Brittany pointed to where Charlene was sitting, two chairs into the right side of the front row. “Is your Dad a good teacher?” she asked, eyes having caught Sam walking out of his office. 

“Don’t know.” Christina admitted “never had his class before.” 

“Take your seat’s please.” Sam called, looking down at the grey clipboard as he stepped up onto the podium in front of the setup. Christina took the chair right in front of Sam, so she could hopefully make some faces or something to make his teacher appearance crack. It was unnerving that this teacher in slacks and a button down shirt and the embodiment of professionalism was the same man as the one who just yesterday was in torn jeans and a plaid flannel arguing with Dean about whether or not pie and cheeseburgers are a food group. 

“Okay guys,” he said “I’m going to call role and please tell me your name and what instrument you play. Blake, Sarah.” 

  
  
  
Halfway through Sam calling role, a loud whistle started to blow. “That’s the fire alarm.” The Hispanic girl next to Charlene said. 

Sam grabbed a yellow folder marked ‘Fire’ and motioned to the door. “Leave your instruments here, you know what to do.” The students began to laugh and talk as they filed out the door, joking about how the school had just announced that there would be no fire drill today. 

Christina waited for Brittany and then followed the rest of the class out the doors, which Sam was holding open like a good little teacher. Little used loosely here, Christina was not short, even for a girl, but Sam still towered over her. 

Sam checked the room one last time, and followed them out. He walked over to the girl who had been sitting beside Charlene and said “I was told you are the drum major correct?” She nodded “Can you tell me if anyone is missing?” 

A few minutes later the drum major, Stephanie, told Sam that only Catherine, the flute player Sam let go work on something for another class, was missing. Sam slipped the read X out of his folder and held it up over his head, which made it easily visible to the administration who were all walking around with walkie talkies. An older man, Mr. Young, the assistant principal, Brittany told her, walked over and talked to Sam for minute, before talking to someone on the other end of the Walkie Talkie. He nodded, and told Sam that she was with the other class, and he could put up the green card. Sam did, and Christina saw out of the corner of her eye the Lunch ladies, sorry Lunch people. Walking out of the back cafeteria doors to join the band, Dean was sulking behind them, his hair was pulled into a hair net, hands covered in plastic food serving gloves and he was wearing an flowered apron. The image was so funny Christina began to laugh so loud that the entire band turned to look at her, including Sam. His inquisitive eyes caught hers and she pointed. He followed with his eyes and when they landed on Dean he laughed twice as loud as Christina had, and started walking towards him. Dean gave them a death glare and walked over to meet them halfway. 

“Great fashion statement.” Christina teased 

“Shut up,” Dean said, his eyes caught something behind her and lite up. She followed his gaze and saw Charlene who was bending down to help Brittany, who had already proven herself very clumsy, up from where she had fallen after tripping on a rock. 

Christina smacked his arm “Ow!” Dean exclaimed 

“Bad,” Christina scolded him like a dog “Bad Dean, she is a) underage b) a student at your place of work and c) your dressed in a flowered apron, you have no chance. 

Dean looked down, realized he still had the apron on and promptly ripped it off. “It’s a gas leak.” He nodded to the school, changing the subject. “A dryer in the athletic department malfunctioned. Why the hell wouldn’t there be an opening as a coach or something?” 

“Because God has a sense of humor.” Christina said 

“No, no he doesn’t” Sam said 

“Wait you know God?” Christina said 

“Yeah, that isn’t as cool as you think it is.” Dean said 

“How can that not be as cool as I…” she tapered off and looked behind Sam pointedly. 

The brothers turned and saw Mr. Young approaching “Is Angela over here?” he asked worriedly. 

Sam looked at Christina. She looked around and shook her head. “No she isn’t.” 

Mr. Young lifted his walkie talkie to his mouth, when they heard a scream come from the direction of the school. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! This is my first work so please feel free to give me feedback. Next chapter should be up today or tomorrow.


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